Infinite
by HeartLikeIce
Summary: When Emma frost is kidnapped to Three Mile Island and meets one of her captors, the mouthy Wade Wilson, she learns that sometimes love is found in the most unlikely of places.  Wade Wilson/Emma Frost
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've never written an X-Men fan fiction before so I'm crossing my fingers and hoping this turns out okay. I haven't read any of the X-Men comics so most likely my characters won't be anything like they are in the comic world. I just watched X-Men Origins: Wolverine for the first time this weekend and was fascinated by Wade Wilson/Deadpool's story…the fact that he was played by Ryan Reynolds may have contributed just a little bit….so I decided to attempt at writing a Wade Wilson romance. Forgive me if some of the dialogue seems weird, I'm not always the best at writing humorous dialogue. Hope you enjoy! :)

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN X-MEN OR ANY CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.**

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He was watching her again.

She could see him standing at the end of the hall from her cell. Leaning against the doorway, toned arms crossed casually over his chest, he looked the definition of relaxed. His eyes, however, told a different story. Those dark brown irises of his penetrated her with his heated gaze. Her blue eyes stared back at them from under dark lashes, filled with curiosity and the need to understand him.

They played this game often. It started several months ago, when she had been kidnapped from the warm comfort of her bed in Orange County, California.

It happened the night before she turned eighteen. She had gone to bed early that night, anxiously waiting for the day she would become a legal adult and have the ability to make her own decisions. When the door opened moments later, she expected her older sister Kayla to enter the room. Instead she saw three tall, vicious men standing in the doorway. Her mouth opened to release a blood curdling scream but sharp claws pressed against her throat before she could make a sound.

"Not a word, angel," a cold, sinister voice whispered softly into her ear, "Or else those human parents of yours in the room across the hall will be receiving a lovely little surprise tonight."

The man in front of her resembled an animal, with his mane of tangled hair and dark, beady eyes. He was without a doubt the scariest thing she had ever seen before in her life. She whimpered as his sharp claws lengthened and pierced the pale skin of her neck, drawing droplets of blood.

A sharp blade suddenly pressed against his throat. "Easy there, big boy, Stryker said to bring her back _alive_," the owner of the blade snarked. His voice was mocking enough, but there was a warning undertone that caused animal like man to draw back suddenly and growl ferociously at him.

"Going soft on us for a pretty little girl, Wade?" he whispered chillingly in a way that sent shivers down her back.

"No," the swordsman, Wade, instantly objected with a casual roll of the eyes, "I was just suggesting that you take your claws out of her throat before you hit one of her carotid arteries. "

"Just grab the girl, Victor," their third companion, a muscled Asian who had been standing quietly in the corner up until that point, said impatiently, "We're on a time limit."

And just as she was beginning to search for a way to escape, she was scooped out of her bed and thrown over Victor's shoulder. His grip was strong and impossible to break free of. She forced herself to remain silent as she was carried away from the house she had lived in her whole life, knowing there would be consequences if she were to make a single noise. She feared for her life, especially in the arms of Victor, but as she glanced over his shoulder and met the captivating brown eyes of Wade Wilson, she somehow felt a calming sense of reassurance. Because no matter how much he denied it, he had protected her from Victor earlier in her room and instincts told her that he would allow no other harm to befall her.

That night, she fell asleep on the plane they were transporting her in. She woke up the next morning on her birthday in a small cell with nothing but stale bread and bland oatmeal for breakfast. As she forced the unsatisfying breakfast down her throat, she realized she was being watched. It was Wade, the swordsmen who had protected her from the savage Victor the night before. Their eyes connected briefly, and his lip curled into a handsome smirk before he turned and left abruptly. She hadn't known then that it would be the first visit of many.

He never spoke to her during his visits, as if it would break some unspoken rule. They simply stared at one another in silence, ignorant of the cells full of people surrounding them. She had a similar experience before with a boy named Robby Jacobs when she had been a young, powerless first grader. They had a crush on each other and constantly exchanged awkward glances during coloring time, but they were both too shy to ever say a word to the other. The only difference in the situations seemed to be that her silent glances exchanged with Wade were not awkward and almost comfortable. The thought that she was comparing her captor to her first grade crush made her smile in ironic amusement and put an unsettling feeling in her stomach. An eighteen year old girl wasn't supposed to have a crush on her captor who was probably years older than her, no matter how young and handsome he may look.

When she finally drew away from her thoughts, she was surprised to realize Wade was no longer leanings against the wall. He was standing right in front of her. The only thing separating them was the clear, impenetrable door of her cell. Her heart pounded heavily against her chest as he lifted his palm to the level of her face, pressing it gently against the door. She absentmindedly pressed her face against the plastic opposite his hand, wishing she could feel the warmth of his hand.

And then, a realization hit her. This was wrong. This was horribly wrong. Wade was not a good person, no matter how he might have protected her before. He killed people for fun. He had helped put all of the other mutants in these cells. He had helped put _her_ in her cell. She instantly drew away from him, receding into the corner of her small cell, and refusing to look at him again.

When she dared to glance at the door again several minutes later, he was gone.

Emma didn't see Wade for a long time after that day. He no longer leaned against the wall at the end of the hall, watching her with his dark gaze and he sure as hell did not stand in front of her cell with his fingers pressed against the door. She knew she should feel relief, but instead she just felt pain and loneliness. The moaning and muttering of the mutants in other cells that had never bothered her before was beginning to drive her crazy and she was developing claustrophobia in her too-small cell. She didn't know how much more of it she could take.

It all changed when she awoke one morning and realized the once empty cell next to her was occupied. And she was shocked to find that her new cell mate was none other than Wade Wilson. But he wasn't the same, handsome, smirking Wade she had stared at for several months. This Wade was pale, weak, and _sick_.

Wade observed her with sallow eyes before doing the unthinkable. He _spoke _to her. "Good morning sunshine. Happy to see me?"

Blue eyes widening, jaw dropping , she goggled at him in surprise.

He frowned slightly, amusement in his eyes, "I'll take that as a no then?"

"W-What happened to you?" she gasped breathlessly, her eyes taking in the dark purple bruises covering his arms and bare chest.

"These-" he gestured to the bruises covering his torso, "-are from my pal Victor. He likes to play rough sometimes."

Rough was an understatement. The bruises traveled from his collar bone to the hem of his sweatpants, darkening especially around his ribs. It would be a surprise if his ribs _weren't_ broken, or at least fractured.

"And those?" She asked softly as her eyes fell on the pattern of bruises on his spine.

He grinned bitterly and said, "Those are from the cancer."

Her heart stopped.

Cancer.

She felt a sharp, stabbing pain from somewhere deep inside of her. Wade was dying. She knew she shouldn't care, but she did anyways. And, if she was being honest with herself, the thought of never being able to stare into his dark brown eyes again hurt like hell.

A simple "oh" paired with an indifferent nod was the only response she gave. But she could tell by the look he gave her that he had seen the flashing emotions in her eyes. He knew that she cared about him.

They sat in silence for a long time. Her, staring at the wall blankly in attempt to mask her raging emotions, and him, watching her with a faint spark in his eyes. Finally, without making eye contact with him, she spoke three simple words, "Are you dying?"

His response was quick and straightforward. "Yes."

Emma had always been a talkative person, but for once in her life she found herself at a loss for words. Instead, she silently edged closer to the thin bars that separated their cells. With a sad smile, she reached her pale, delicate hand through the bars and placed it on top of his.

Wade returned her smile thankfully and, in a surprisingly cheerful voice, said, "So, looks I'll be calling heaven pretty soon."

Her eyebrows rose in astonishment, "What? Why?"

"I have to let them know one of their angels is missing."

She gawked at him in disbelief for a brief moment before cracking a wide grin and replying sarcastically, "Not like I've _ever_ heard that one before."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to my first reviewer and those who have my story on alert and favorites! I really appreciate the feedback :) Since I've just gotten back into the writing game, I appreciate any input, advice, and criticism you reviewers may have for me. Enjoy!**

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"Hey Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"That's a nice shirt."

She glanced down at her plain white tank top and then back up at Wade with confusion written across her face.

"That's a nice shirt," he repeated, "Can I talk you out of it?"

She rolled her eyes at his attempt, but smiled none the less. If there was one thing she had learned about Wade Wilson, it was that he was the king of pick up lines. In the short two weeks that he had been her cell neighbor, she had heard at least 50 different pick-up lines. Not that she minded. His joking demeanor took away from the dullness of their depressing cell block.

Despite his positivity, Emma could easily spot changes in Wade. He was growing weaker and sleeping constantly, his skin was turning a sickly shade of yellow and his stomach was bloating due to the tumors affecting his internal organs. She had a horrible feeling that the cell beside hers would be empty once again in the coming weeks. Wade's days were numbered.

"Didn't you try that one on Monday?" she pointed out playfully, raising an eyebrow at him.

He leaned his head against the wall casually and shrugged, "I guess I just really wouldn't mind seeing you topless."

She snorted and pretended to pick at the dirt under her nails to hide the inevitable blush his words had caused, "Keep dreaming, lover boy. I wouldn't take off my shirt for you if we were the last two people on Earth."

"Oh Emma," he chuckled, tsking at her mirthfully, "We both know that's not true, princess. Besides, don't you wanna grant a dying man his final wish?"

"Shouldn't my company alone be enough to satisfy your final wishes?"

He looked mildly impressed at her witty reply. "Well I'll be damned; looks like my impeccable sense of humor and charming arrogance may be wearing off on you."

She giggled, looking at him with eyes filled with amusement and affection, "You have a high opinion of yourself, don't you Wade Wilson?"

"No," he protested, "I'm just highly aware of my awesomeness."

"Otherwise known as….arrogance?"

They're bantering continued until Emma began to notice Wade's signs of exhaustion. His eyes began to droop and his words were slurred together, which was another sign that the cancer was beginning to take a toll on him. He could only stay awake for a few hours, and even then he always had dark bags under his eyes.

"Maybe you ought to rest for awhile," she suggested finally, "You aren't looking so well…"

"Sorry princess, I can't always look magnificent ya know-"

"Wade, I'm serious," she cut him off in the stern voice she used to use on the children she babysat, "You look…exhausted. Get some rest." It wasn't a request and, surprisingly to Emma, he didn't argue like he usually did. He rested his head of dark blonde hair against the wall and closed his eyes, drifting to sleep instantaneously.

She watched as his chest rose slowly with each breath he took as he slept, fearing that at some point the rhythm would stop. Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes at the thought. She told herself it was because she had become used to him being around and was amused by his sarcastic humor, but that was a lie. It was so much more than that.

So much blood had been spilled by his hands. It almost seemed right that it would be a horrible disease like cancer to kill him. Truthfully, he would be getting what he deserved…but Emma didn't want him to die. She didn't even want to see him in pain. She wanted to see him as the healthy, intriguing, handsome man who had watched her in her cell for months but that was impossible, out of reach. Wade's death was inevitable.

Suddenly she felt Wade's hand cup her chin, his thumb brushing tears from her cheek gently. He had awakened to the sound of her crying and she had been too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice. She sighed and pressed her cheek into his palm, the warmth of it setting fire to her entire body like a flame to a line of gasoline. This was a different Wade than the one who teased and constantly threw pick-up lines at her. This was the same Wade who had pressed his hand to her cell and gazed at her daily with passion in his eyes. She loved both versions.

"Shhh," he softly whispered as he reached his other hand through the bars to pet her hair soothingly, "It's going to be alright, princess."

"No, no it's not," she sniffled pathetically, "You're going to die, Wade, and then I'm going to be here all alone."

"I won't leave you," he said quietly, his hand continuously stroking her soft blonde hair, "I'm like a birthmark or a mole-infinite…you can't get rid of me."

Only he could make something sound deep and make a joke out of it at the same time. She cracked a lopsided grin. "Umm…Wade, you do know you can get moles cut off right?"

They came for him the next morning.

Emma recognized them the moment she saw them. Victor and Zero, the same two men that had taken her away from her home in California almost a year ago with Wade. They entered through the white door at the end of the hall and advanced to Wade's cell. Victor and Zero rarely visited the cell blocks. Whatever was about to go down would not be good.

She was on her feet as soon as the sharp claw of Victor's index finger unlocked Wade's cell door. "Don't you dare touch him!" she cried out, her voice sounding more like a nervous squeak than the ferocious yell she had hoped for.

Victor chuckled darkly, crouching down so he was level with Wade's half-closed eyes, "Looks like Wilson's found himself a pretty little bitch."

Wade's colorless lips moved slowly, muttering inaudible words.

"Come again?" Victor growled, still wearing his signature, bone chilling smirk.

"I said…fuck…you," Wade hissed just above a whisper, waving a shaking middle finger in the feral's face.

Victor growled ferociously at him, showing his large fangs and spraying Wade's face with spittle. He threw the ill man over his shoulder like a rag doll and stormed out of the cell. As Emma opened her mouth to protest, he turned and pointed a sharp claw in her direction, "Not a word from you, bitch, or I'll slit your pretty little throat." Her mouth snapped shut and she watched Victor leave the cell block with Wade thrown helplessly over his shoulder and Zero in tow. As soon as the door shut behind them, she fell back against the wall of her cell and buried her face in her hands.

She couldn't bear to think of how awful they would make Wade's death. They could inhumanely put him down like a sick dog and at least it would be quick and painless, or they could let it drag on and make him suffer mercilessly. Both thoughts made her sick to her stomach. And the ceaseless, reverberating thought in her head was that he would die all alone.

The next weeks were long and torturous. Her cage seemed to close in on her, growing smaller and darker every day. She was trapped in her own mind, which felt awfully similar to her cage. Small, dark, and lonely. There wasn't much more she could take before she completely lost her sanity. She found herself picking apart her thoughts and memories, searching for the positive ones that would get her through the day.

She thought of her half-sister Kayla. They had different fathers, but Kayla was as close to her as any sister could be. She remembered a teenaged Kayla taking her to Disneyland as a child on the weekends she would visit. It took a large sum out of both of their allowances, but a trip to the 'Happiest Place on Earth' was always worth it. They would go on ride after ride and load up on sugar and calories in between, usually making themselves sick before the sun even set.

As they grew older, they grew even closer. Kayla gave Emma advice on anything and everything going on in her drama filled teenage life and in turn, Emma helped Kayla escape from the constant stress of college life. They shared the same kind-heartedness and amicability inherited from their mother but where Emma could be weak, cowardly, and sometimes spoiled, Kayla was strong, brave, and selfless. If Kayla knew where Emma was, that they were keeping her closed up in a cage, she would do anything to get her free because that was the type of person she was.

She thought of her father and mother. Her mother had always been the perfect mother. She was kind, nurturing, and everything a mother should be. On the other hand, her father was hard, cold, and spent hours behind the closed doors of his office. He spoiled Emma and gave her anything she asked for as if it would make up for the time he didn't spend with her, but it was never enough. In high school, she would get speeding tickets and detentions just to see if her father would actually take the time out of his busy schedule to punish her. He never did. So she gave up trying to gain his attention and tried to be grateful for her overly affectionate mother instead. She found herself wondering how her parents reacted when they found her missing that next morning. Her mother probably went into hysterics and her father….her father probably spent thousands of dollars for a useless search party, so it would at least look like he cared that his one and only daughter had gone missing without a trace.

And more than anything else, she thought of Wade. He played like a movie reel through her head, over and over again. The way he had looked the last night she had seen him, so ill and weak, was permanently seared into her brain. She wouldn't let herself think of the numerous things Stryker could have done to get rid of him. It was more than likely that Wade was dead, and Emma knew that even if he was alive by some strange occurrence, she would never see him again. But one again, _she was wrong_.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter Three is finally here! Sorry for the wait, I accidentally deleted the whole thing and had to start all over again -_- Hopefully, there aren't too many mistakes. I was a bit rushed in typing this chapter because it was deleted so if you have any criticisms or tips then let me know in reveiws or private message, I dont mind :) Alot of this chapter is actually straight from X-Men Origins: Wolverine. I was watcing the movie while I did this and had to include alot of the info so if anything sounds familiar, that's why!**

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Emma watched grimly as two guards dragged a young boy into the room. He was unconscious and wore bandages and dark eye-pieces over his eyes. He had been experimented on, like many other mutants held prisoner at Three Mile Island had been, and was now being locked away like the rest of them. The guards tossed him carelessly into a small cage, locking it and leaving hastily.

For weeks now her stomach grew sick every time a new mutant was brought in. They were usually young, even younger than her, and often unconscious. Sometimes they had deep wounds or burnt skin; and she had even seen some with bruises from being beaten brutally by Victor Creed.

From time to time, she found herself hoping that the mutant they were bringing in would be Wade and he would once again be thrown into the cell next to hers. It was a silly hope and she knew that. Her seeing Wade again was about as likely as all of the mutants escaping from Three Mile Island. Impossible.

"Something's going on!"

The excited whispers of the other mutants abruptly pulled Emma away from her grim thoughts.

Something _was_ going on.

Usually, the large cell block was filled with unbearable silence, broken only by the sound of mutants mumbling to themselves or talking in their sleep. But now, there were loud, panicked voices echoing off the walls from rooms away. Stryker's own alarmed voice could be heard amongst them. And the ruthless leader of the facility, who always acted so put together, sounded extremely edge.

A shrill creak indicated the opening of the gate leading to the cell block. Emma leaned eagerly against the front of her cage, following the other mutant's keen gazes to the entrance gate. There stood a tall, muscled man with a mane of wild black hair and next to him, with the same silky hair and striking eyes she had always had, was Kayla.

Emma couldn't believe her eyes. She stood there in shock as the man used his sharp, adamantium claws to unlock multiple cells at a time. His claws pierced the lock of her cell as he continued down the row, and she pushed it open, immediately flying into the arms of Kayla. As she reunited with her older sister, she felt like a child all over again. She wanted to cry, laugh, and shout all at once. But there was no time for that.

"Are you okay?" Kayla asked, holding Emma's heart-shaped voice gently in her palms.

She nodded, feeling her eyes begin to water, "I'm alright."

They locked eyes for an instant and no more words needed to be said between the two sisters. Kayla clutched Emma's hand in hers and pulled, "We need to go!"

"Come on!" Emma yelled over her shoulder to the other mutants. She had never spoken with any of them before the whole time she had been there, but at the moment felt a distinct bond with each of them. They were all on the same boat as her; fighting to escape from the place they had been held in as prisoners and experimented on like lab rats.

The man who had freed them was waiting at the end of the cell block and, like an Alpha leading a pack, led the large group of mutants onward. The narrow walkway that ran between the cells widened into a hall and they crowded around their leader, watching intently as the thick, black doors leading to the outside world began to slowly open.

A horribly disfigured mutant was standing there, waiting for them.

Emma's body shuttered as she took in the appearance of the imposing figure standing ahead of her. He wore baggy red pants that sat low on his defined abdomen, which was marked with crossed lines that formed an abstract design from his waist all the way to his neck. But it was the gruesome disfiguration of his face that was truly terrifying. There was a thin stretch of skin tissue growing over his mouth, which had been sewn together roughly with stitches like a wound. His eyelids had been cut away, leaving raw patches of skin in their wake as proof of their destruction. His skin was stretched tight over his face and took on a sickly, yellow color from the base of his neck to top of his completely bald head. And as her gaze locked on his dark brown eyes, Emma realized there was something undeniably familiar about the mutant.

"Kayla, get these kids out of here," she heard Wolverine tell her sister as his metal claws stretched from his knuckles, "Find another way out!"

The other mutants were turning and running in the opposite direction. But Emma couldn't move. Her body was frozen in place. Her heart was beating slowly in her chest as she came to an indisputable conclusion. The mutant, the hideously distorted mutant, was without a doubt Wade Wilson.

"Emma!" Her sister Kayla was pulling desperately on her arm, "Come on Emma, we need to go another way!"

"Wade," she gasped breathlessly as she felt bile rise in her stomach.

"Come on, Emma! We need to go now!" Kayla hissed, tugging desperately on Emma's arm.

Emma came to her senses and turned away from the scene, running the opposite direction with her sister. "Sorry," she mumbled an apology as they quickened their pace to catch up with the others.

"It's okay, I had a hard time taking my eyes off it too-" Kayla replied solemnly, "I don't know how Stryker could do that to someone-"

Emma didn't know either. She understood that Wade had always enjoyed fighting and killing. But turning him into a machine and taking away his voice was the most horrible, disgusting thing a person could do. Then again, Stryker could hardly be classified as a person.

They came to the entrance gate with the other mutants and bullets were suddenly coming at them from several different directions. Emma turned her skin to diamond on instinct and leaped in front the others, shielding them from the deadly shots. She felt the bullets ricochet off her body, not even tickling the surface of her hard skin as they rebounded.

She stepped back as soon as the others were out of the line of fire, searching fixedly for any doors that would lead them safely from the room.

"I can help!"

She looked to the source of the cry and was surprised to see the same boy she had seen being thrown into a cell earlier that day. He appeared to be intent on helping, but Emma was unsure. What could this sixteen year old blind boy possibly do to help them escape? She looked to Kayla, asking the same question with her eyes.

"Go ahead!" Kayla instructed with an encouraging nod.

Here goes nothing, Emma thought with an anxious sigh. She jumped up from her position in diamond form and rushed across the walkway to the boy, dodging bullets as she went. He clutched her shoulders with sweating palms and they sprinted to the gate.

"Go now!" Emma cried out over the deafening gunfire.

Ripping off his dark eyepiece with a piercing battle cry, he shot red lasers from his eyes and blasted the guards shooting at them into oblivion.

"Did I get 'em?" he asked once his eyepiece was safely covering his eyes once again.

Emma looked at the ruin of glass shards where the five guards had stood before and then back at the boy, unable to keep a small smile from her face, "Yeah."

"It's all clear," She said to the others, waving them out of their hiding places, "Let's go!"

"I can't go," her sister said in a pained voice.

Emma's eyes narrowed, "Kayla, come on!"

"I have to stay here," Kayla continued, "You lead them."

She stared at her sister with disbelief written across her face, "B-But Kayla-"

"GO!" Kayla yelled.

Emma shook her head firmly. She wouldn't budge on this. Kayla was the only thing she had right now and she refused to leave her to fend on her own. "I'm NOT leaving you here!"

She felt a hand touch her shoulder gently. "I-I can lead them-"the blind boy said timidly from beside her, "I know the way."

"What?" Her eyes narrowed on him in disbelief, "You can't see! How could you know the way?"

"Please," he pleaded in a soft, yet firm voice, "Trust me, I know the way."

She paused, searching for truth in his facial expressions, and found no lies. Instinct told her he was telling the truth and somehow, despite his blindness, he really did know the way. "Okay," she said finally, "I guess, maybe I can trust you. And…thank you."

"No, thank you," he replied with a half-grin, "If you ever need anything-"

"Go!" she urged, waving him forward, "You've got to get them out of here before any more guards come!"

The boy nodded, giving her shoulder one last squeeze, before leading the mutants onward.

"NO!" Kayla objected, glaring fiercely at her sister, "Emma you can't do this! Follow them, go with them"

Emma knelt down by her sister and clutched her hand, "I'm not leaving you, Kayla. I know you want to go find him and I'm going with you. And don't you DARE use your powers on me, I won't let them work."

Kayla sighed in defeat and affectionately touched Emma's cheek, "I'm not gonna be able to get rid of you little sister, huh?"

Emma smiled and placed her hand over Kayla's, "Not a chance. Now let's go find that man of yours."

She chose not to mention the fact that wherever the man Kayla was looking for would be, Wade would be there as well, dead or alive. And she needed to see him one last time before she left Three Mile Island forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I really want to thank everybody for the encouraging reviews! They really help me keep up with this story better than I have with any of my other stories! So thanks everybody :) This chapter is more from Wade's perspective, than Emma's, so it may seem a little different. I tried to slip in a little bit of humor, hopefully it works well with the story and dialogue. Also, I had to mix seriousness with humor and make sure that there was still a little bit of Wade/Emma connection in the chapter so please let me know if anything seems off or wrong so I can fix it. Thanks and Enjoy! **

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Beep.

Beep.

Pain, extreme pain, stretching from his top of his shaved head to the souls of his feet. His mouth was on fire and it felt like someone had stuck knifes into his eyes.

"_Just a bit longer, Wade. Hold on for just a little bit longer."_

Beep.

Stryker, standing over him, looking down at him with a smug grin on his face_, "You're going to be the perfect soldier."_

Beep.

Beep.

"_Activate Weapon XI!"_

"_But sir, the bombing process isn't complete-"_

"_Just do it!"_

Wade was in a dark place where he could see nothing, but could only hear the distance voices. The first voice, he recognized as Stryker and the second was a voice he had become accustomed to while he had been operated on for the last week. They had placed things inside of him, taken things out of him, and sealed his mouth shut. The first few surgeries were painless because of the anesthetics in his system; but once Logan's healing power was added to the pile mutations they put inside him, the anesthetics no longer worked. And then he felt every ounce of pain.

Not like he minded having a bunch of cool new powers. When Stryker had proposed the idea to him, he had been on the verge of death and the idea of possessing a power that would save him was appealing. So, like a fool, he signed the contract. The contract that pretty much handed over his body to Stryker, that manipulating son of a bitch. And now he was left with no mouth, no motor control, and no brain control.

He was basically screwed.

BEEEP.

BEEEP.

BEEEP.

The wild humming of the machines he was connected to pierced his eardrums and he wanted to cry out in pain, but the motion only brought more agony to his stitched up mouth.

Suddenly, a stream of light burst into the darkness surrounding him as he was awakened. He was laying on a cold metal surface with white walls surrounding him on three sides and on the fourth there was a clear, plastic screen overlooking the entrance to the prisoner cell blocks. A swarm of humming machines encircled him, as well as a group of nurses and doctors. Stryker was leaning casually against one of the white walls, with a sickly pleasant smirk plastered on his face.

"_Wake up Deadpool, you have work to do," _Stryker's voice chanted in his brain, _"Stand up!"_

He threw his legs over the edge of the surgery table and stood automatically on Stryker's command.

So this was Stryker's idea of a perfect soldier. No brain, no form of communication, and overloaded with extremely powerful mutations. Wade knew he shouldn't be so surprised, seeing as Stryker had never been right in the head. Then again, he himself had never been exactly right in the head either…If he had lips and wasn't being controlled by the manipulative bastard, he would've smirked.

"_The prisoners are escaping through the left chamber leading out of the cell block. Wolverine is leading them. Your job is to teleport there and stop him."_

Teleport? Wade hadn't remembered signing up for _that_ particular power. Must be one of the several extra Stryker decided to throw in without his consent.

Sure enough, the room around him faded out of his vision and the white walls of the lab were replaced by dark, metal walls and a concrete floor. He could feel the night breeze brushing against his bare back and knew that this was the exit he was intended to block.

The large doors opposite of Wade burst open noisily and Wolverine, formerly known to Wade as James Logan, came charging through with a throng of young mutants behind him. His determined expression faded into alarm as he sensed Wade's, or as he was now known, Deadpool's daunting presence. Adamantium claws stretched from his knuckles on instinct. Deadpool's own adamantium swords plunged from his fists in response. It was a challenge. Stryker intended for the two mutants to fight to the death, believing without a doubt that Deadpool would easily be the victor.

"Kayla, get these kids out of here," Logan grumbled urgently to the woman standing at his side, "Find another way!"

Though the woman looked uncertain, she followed his command and ushered the cluster of young mutants back through the door they had come through only seconds before. The part of Wade that was locked away inside Deadpool's powerless brain searched among the sea of prisoners for the signature blonde hair of his favorite cell mate. It was useless. Through Deadpool's eyes, everything but his current target was a blur, including the faces of the other mutants.

"Wade?" he heard Logan ask hesitantly as he drew closer. "Is that you?"

Well gee Jimmy, who the hell else would it be? He retorted mentally, but then remembered that his physical appearance had been dramatically altered as he was transformed into Weapon XI.

"_DESTROY."_

And there was that lovely voice in his head once again.

Boss, did I mention how nice you sound today? Your encouragements really bring out the bossiness in your voice-

"_DESTROY HIM!"_

Deadpool charged forward with his blades drawn ahead of him aggressively.

"Wade, you don't have to do this!" Logan called out to him.

He didn't realize that Stryker was in control of the weapon advancing on him. And as long as Stryker was in control, Wade was Deadpool. Adamantium sword clashed against adamantium claws and thus, the battle begun. Deadpool outmatched Logan in various aspects but the wolverine fought skillfully and held his own in the death battle.

Wade, whom had never realized how truly boring watching a fight he couldn't really participate was, watched from the sidelines. He could feel his body strike and he could hear the clash of metal against metal, but he wasn't putting any of his own energy towards the actions. Unexpectedly, Wolverine had the advantage for a brief moment and his strong claws jabbed into the skin of Deadpool's abdomen. It was painless for Wade and gave him a chance to see his reflection in Wolverine's eyes.

He grimaced at what he saw. The bald head he could live with, but the yellow skin, red-rimmed eyes, and absence of a mouth were sure signs that no woman would ever sleep in the bed of Wade Wilson. Living six months without any sexual contact with a woman had been hard enough, but the rest of his life? A certain blonde haired, blue-eyed woman appeared in Wade's mind. He wondered if her soft skin would feel the same under Deadpool's course fingers, or if her appearance would like quite as stunning through his eyes.

Probably not.

Deadpool and Wolverine had carried their battle to the outer grounds of Three Mile Island. One moment their blades were colliding against each other, and the next, Wolverine was racing out ahead of him. The feral mutant jumped onto a wide, circular tower and began his ascent to the top of the structure. Deadpool watched with amused eyes. Why? Because he only had to wait until his opponent reached the top of the tower and then he could teleport the entire 100 ft climb without using a drop of energy. And that's exactly what he did.

Wolverine looked briefly torn between shock and agitation as Deadpool teleported directly behind him. He groaned in annoyance before turning and jabbing his claws out towards Deadpool's chest. The mutant teleported once again to the other side of the tower, leaving Wolverine off balance.

Will I ever have control of myself again? Wade asked himself as the fierce battle raged on, Or will I be forced to watch as Stryker compels my every move for the rest of my life? He knew the answer. It wasn't the killing he minded. In fact, killing had always been his favorite sport. It was the no-brain-control part that really irked him, and the no-sexuality portion of the deal deeply contributed to his stress if he was being honest with himself. He wasn't like Victor, he couldn't get off just from killing a bunch of people and having a romp with himself in his room every night.

Speak of the devil, Victor and Jimmy were back to back, fighting on the same team for the first time in a long time. It was like a big X-Family reunion. When exactly Victor had joined in on their little party, Wade didn't know. What he did know was that Deadpool was handing both their asses to them on a stick at the moment. He didn't find the idea of Deadpool surviving the battle pleasant. At this point, he was almost hoping that Jimmy and Victor's combined strength would be enough to finish Weapon XI. A strange thought, indeed, but anything, including death, was better than having his brain eternally controlled…and never being able to have sex again.

His hope didn't seem realistic at the moment, especially when Wolverine had been tossed carelessly to the side of the building and Deadpool was frying Victor alive with his laser vision. But Deadpool's enhanced senses caught an impending sense of danger behind him. He turned at the last minute as a sharp, metal claw sliced across his neck, decapitating his head from his body. It was over.

And in that final moment that it took for his head to fully detach from his body, he caught a glimpse of silky, blonde hair, and icy blue eyes staring up at him from the floor of the island 100 ft below. Emma Frost's agonized gaze was the last thing Wade Wilson/Deadpool saw before his world turned black.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the longer wait this week! I had a small case of writers block. This chapter is a little bit shorter than the rest and may seem slightly rushed since I wrote most of it in one day. Hopefully, you guys still enjoy it!**

* * *

Emma hated hospitals. They were crowded, noisy, and the very last place someone who had been trapped in a small cell for over a year would want to spend their first night of freedom. And yet there she was, sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, squished in tight between the wife of a car crash victim and the mother of a teenager who had attempted suicide. The worst part was that both women were balling their eyes out and Emma was just sitting there, quiet and calm as a 19 year old girl could be when her sister had a possibly fatal gunshot wound.

It wasn't that she didn't care for her sister's well-being. Kayla was her closest family member and now that she couldn't go back home to her mother and father, she was all she had. If Kayla died, she would be all alone, no better off than she had been on Three Mile Island in her diminutive cage. But as worried as she was about Kayla, her grief for Wade Wilson was double the amount.

The last second of his life kept flashing through her mind. His head had jerked sideways, slowly detaching from his neck, and in that last moment before he fell into the center of the crumbling tower, his haunting brown eyes had fallen upon her. There had been a torrent of emotion in them but the one that Emma could distinctively see was overwhelming relief. He was relieved to die, rather than live under the control of another. The moment would forever be engraved in her memory.

"Ms. Frost!"

Emma looked up at the nurse who was calling out her name, "Yes?"

The nurse quickly peaked down at her file, and then beamed at Emma, "Your sister has been stabilized. Would you like to come see her?"

Emma nodded and eagerly stood.

"Alright then, ma'am, if you would just follow me right this way. Her room is just down the hall."

The nurse led her out of the noisy waiting room, thank God, and down a quiet hallway. She stopped in front of room 606 and peaked through the crack in the door.

"Ms. Silverfox?" She called softly, and then continued without waiting for a response, "Your sister, Emma, is here to see you."

"Bring her in," came Kayla's feeble response.

Emma pushed through the doorway and smiled as her eyes landed on her sister. Kayla looked very weak. Her skin was pale from the blood less, there were purple bags under her eyes, and huge bandage was wrapped around her midsection, but she was alive and that all that mattered.

"Thank heavens you're alright," Emma breathed, her eyes water slightly as she pulled up a chair beside her sister's bed.

Kayla weakly smiled at her, "Back at the island…I-I really didn't think I was going to make it."

Emma reached out and affectionately stroked her sister's hair, "I know, I was scared too. The doctor said if we had brought you in fifteen minutes later than we did, you might not have made it."

"When Stryker shot down Logan," Kayla breathed softly, her eyes filled with sadness, "I felt myself slipping away."

"You were slipping away," Emma whispered in reply, "Thank God for Remy, if he wouldn't have brought his helicopter around for us-"

"I would've been dead," Kayla said bluntly.

The thought of Kayla dying put an unpleasant feeling in Emma's stomach, but she knew her sister's words were true. Had Remy not seen them as he was making his escape, Kayla would've died just like Wolverine, Deadpool, and so many others had that day.

She determinedly pushed away the unsettling thoughts and placed her hand over Kayla's, "That doesn't matter now. You're safe and you're alive, and you'll be healed in no time."

"Then what?" Kayla asked gently, "Where do we go from there?"

Emma smirked, despite the serious tone in Kayla's voice, "Well, isn't that your job? You are the responsible adult here. Besides, it's not like I can go back to California and live with mom and dad."

"I am a little incapacitated here, Emma," Kayla dramatically gestured to her bandaged torso, her eyes glimmering in amusement, "But you're right, there's no way you could ever back to California. It's too dangerous. We need somewhere crowded, where it would be hard to spot us, but far, far away from here."

Emma nodded. They were still in Pennsylvania, only miles away from Three Mile Island, which put them in danger. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Toronto, Canada. I've been living in Canada for years," Kayla explained in response to Emma's bewildered expression, "I've only been to Toronto a few times, but from what I've seen, it's perfect. It's far enough away and if, by chance, they were to ever find out we were there, it's very crowded. We could blend in with the thousands of people living there easily."

"But Canada?" Emma probed quizzically, "It seems so far away-"

Kayla rolled her eyes, "It's not, not really. It's only a border away from the U.S, same continent even. It's amazing there, Emma, you would love it."

"I guess it could be a possibility-"Emma conceded, "I'll consider it."

Three days later, Kayla was finally ready to be released from the hospital. Her wound was still bandaged and had to be cared for, but it was slowly healing. Emma had considered Kayla's idea of moving to Toronto seriously and finally came to an agreement with her. With the authorities and Stryker's own private agents combing the United States for the escaped mutants, leaving the country was one of the only safe options.

As soon as they were able to cross into the Canadian border, Kayla would clear her bank account and they would use the money towards creating new ids for themselves, buying an apartment, and starting their new lives in Toronto.

* * *

One Month Later

* * *

Emma stood in the center of the living room of her new apartment wearing baggy sweatpants and a too-small tank top. Her hair was thrown carelessly into a messy bun at the top of her head and her face was glistening with sweat. She had been at work all day, unpacking clothes, toiletries, and electronics while Kayla was out in the city searching for a job. What had sounded like a simple day of unpacking had actually been a horribly exhausting day of manual labor. She finally understood why her mother was constantly complaining about cleaning and putting clothes away,

She collapsed in a heap on the floor, panting exhausted breaths.

Despite the difficult house-work, she was happy. Happy to finally be away from her prison cell on Three Mile Island and starting a new life in Toronto with her sister. She felt free, just like any nineteen year old girl should. Her thoughts were still occasionally haunted by Deadpool's scarred face and the death of WadeWilson, but the emotional damage on her mind was healing, just as the physical damage on Kayla's body was. Soon, if Kayla was successful in finding jobs for both of them, Emma would even be able to attend community college.

Her lips spread into a small, content grin and she rested her head peacefully on the carpet floor of the living room. For the first time in months, things finally seemed to be improving for her. Little did she know, dark eyes watched her from the shadows of her supposedly safe home, waiting for the right moment to strike.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Due to the amount of reviews I got last chapter, I thought I'd post this one early. I had a lot of fun writing it. Also, I apologize in advance to any references of Toronto, Canada that may be incorrect since I've never been there and don't actually know what it's like. Enjoy! :)**

**A/N: IF YOU'VE ALREADY READ THIS CHAPTER AND SAW THAT IT WAS UPDATED, PLEASE READ THIS! I added a little bit extra to the ending of this chapter, so if you've already read it then you may want to scroll to the end to see what I added. BE WARNED, it is a little bit gory. ENJOY! **

* * *

"_Wade?"_

_The small shadow of a grin graced his lips as he peaked open one brown eye at her, "Yes?" _

_Emma felt faintly unsure of herself, which was unusual for her, and she avoided his gaze as she said, "I-uhh, I can't sleep-"_

_His eyebrows rose in amusement and he reclined his head casually back against his arms, "So?"_

_Her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment, "So-uhh-"she paused and scoffed, agitated by his taunting smirk, "Jesus, Wade-just, never mind."_

"_Ahh come on, Emma," he probed, leaning his head forward on his knuckles intently, "I was just kidding. What's wrong, princess?" His voice still carried its signature mocking tone._

_She rolled her eyes irritably at him, "Nothing. Just forget I even said-"_

"_Ah-ah-ah," he wagged his finger at her in a patronizing way, "Now you've got me curious, so what is it that's troubling you dearest? Bad rash? Feeling lonely? Scary nightmares-"_

_Her frown deepened, causing Wade's grin to widen._

"_Bingo! Poor little Emma. Scared of the boogie man?"_

_She scoffed at him in annoyance, "I am NOT scared of the boogie man!"_

_Wade chuckled mirthfully, "I was actually referring to my buddy Victor-you know the one with fangs who's in desperate need of a manicure?"_

_Despite her irritation, laughter spilled from Emma's lips, "He is possibly one of the most frightening mutants I've ever-"her words were caught on her tongue as her eyes befell the scene before her. _

_Wade's tanned skin was paling to a sickly yellow before her eyes and his mouth was stitching itself closed. Skin peeled away from his eyelids, leaving raw flesh behind. The truth behind her previous words was lost. Victor wasn't the most frightening mutant she had ever seen, Deadpool was. His dark, haunting eyes stared into her own as a scream ripped from her throat._

* * *

Emma jolted awake, her scream echoing off the walls of the empty apartment. As soon as she realized she was sitting safely in her living room, surrounded by cardboard boxes instead of the walls of her old cell, her screams faded into disjointed breaths. She pulled her shaking knees into her chest and inhaled a slow, steady breath in attempt to calm herself.

As she closed her eyes, images from the night terror flashed through her head. Chills erupted on her spine as she recalled Wade's young, handsome features twisting into the scarred face of Deadpool. It had been so realistic and the image left her stomach feeling unsettled.

She stood unsteadily and headed to the kitchen, deciding to nourish her empty stomach with a snack. To her surprise, there was a note taped to the fridge with the sloppy print of Kayla's handwriting scribbled across it.

"No food in the fridge, gone out for groceries and some dinner," she read quietly to herself, " I didn't want to wake you up, you looked so comfortable sleeping on the floor-" Emma rolled her eyes at the sarcasm radiating from the words-"Be back at 8:00."

Emma glanced at the clock. It read 6:30 pm. Kayla must've left moments before she woke up. She sighed, irritated that she had somehow managed to sleep half the day away and get barely anything done in the apartment. That meant there was even more work to be done tomorrow, and the next day. And, to make things even worse, she would have to wait at least another hour before getting any food to eat. Her stomach grumbled hungrily at the thought.

"Lovely," she mumbled sarcastically, slamming the refrigerator shut in exasperation. She yanked open the freezer and pulled out a half-frozen water bottle, the only type of drink they had. Emma usually preferred some type of diet soda or lemonade but with her throat burning with thirst, water would have to do. Just as she went to take a gulp of ice cold water, a flickering light caught her attention from the corner of her eye.

She peered over her shoulder down the hallway and saw the light shining from her bedroom. The door had been left wide open and the yellow light was illuminating the entire hallway. Emma immediately assumed it had been Kayla, who always was a bit carless when it came to shutting doors and turning off lights.

Emma padded down the hallway barefoot and into her bedroom, scowling slightly as she took in the small space. Her room was overwhelmingly bland, due to the lack of time she had to decorate it. There was only a small closet, a twin bed, and a full length mirror. The walls were plain beige and the windows didn't even have shutters or curtains. Unable to look at her room any longer, she quickly went to turn off the bright light. As her finger brushed the switch, a dark shadow in the reflection of the mirror caught her gaze.

She gasped in shock and jerked around, looking straight into her own reflection. There was no one else there. Just Emma, standing all alone in an empty bedroom. But she swore she had seen something else in the mirror's reflection, something frighteningly familiar.

Emma bit her lip nervously and sent a guarded glance over her shoulder. "Hello?" she called out cautiously, "Kayla?"

She received no response.

Shuddering, shaking out her stress, and then checking her reflection once again, Emma felt exceedingly paranoid. It was obvious she was alone and yet she still felt the need to check the room around her.

"Settle down, Frost," she whispered calmingly, "You're just being paranoid."

With each reassuring breath, she convinced herself she was only having a melt down because she was all alone at night in an empty apartment. Once Kayla was home, she would feel perfectly safe. They would eat some dinner, watch a movie or two, and she would take a Tylenol for a heavy, dreamless sleep. Everything would be fine. At least, that's what she told herself. Yet, her heart was still beating fast as a drum and her palms were sweating profusely. Her instincts were telling her the opposite.

She ignored them.

Once she had herself foolishly believing she was calm, she decided to go back to the living room and set up the VCR. She turned slowly away from the mirror and suddenly, her body impacted with what felt like a brick wall. Thickly muscled arms wrapped around her small waist, squeezing the breath out of her body, and a cold blade pressed against the exposed skin of her stomach.

Her muscles were screaming at her to move, to run, to do anything but just stand there. But she couldn't move, she couldn't make a sound. Short huffs of breath came from his nose, brushing against her skin and causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise. His upper body was shirtless and heat radiated from his skin to hers, glistening her tank top with sweat.

He yanked her around in his arms so she was facing him, looking into the sinister face from her nightmares. The face of Deadpool. Her eyes grew wide with fear and she no longer felt like the strong, powerful Emma Frost, whose skin was made of hard diamond. She felt like a scared fly, tangled in the deadly web of a black widow.

"Please," she pleaded softly, her voice cracking with desperation, "Please, I don't know what you want-"

His head tilted sideways and his eyes dropped to her mouth, narrowing. He pulled his arm up gradually away from her torso, the katana blade slinking back into his fist. His fingers lifted to her face and he brushed his thumb against her lower lip, his eyes filled with curiosity. A strangled sound emitted from her lips and she pulled away in astonishment.

Rage filled his eyes and he shoved her harshly against the mirror. In less time than it took his heart to beat, he had an adamantium knife in his hand held out towards her. Emma's eyes closed tightly as she awaited her death, knowing her diamond skin would shatter under the blade.

But the sharp stab of the blade never came.

Emma squinted her eyes open hesitantly and stared up at Deadpool, who towered at least a foot taller than her. The knife was still in his hand, loosely pointed at her chest, but his eyes were no longer filled with rage.

"I-I don't know what you want," she whispered unsteadily, pressing herself against the wall to create more space between them.

She received no response. Instead, to her complete bewilderment, he suddenly turned the knife on his face and plunged it deep into the depths of his own skin.

Emma screamed in horror as blood spewed from the gruesome wound, but Deadpool only cut further. The knife left a gory, bleeding gash just above his chin. Instantly, the skin around the wound wove itself back together, creating a gaping hole that nearly resembled a mouth.

He took a menacing step forward and lowered his head until his newly formed lips were almost touching her ear. "Emma Frost," he growled roughly into her ear, "What the fuck did they do to me?"


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Sorry, it's going to be a slightly shorter chapter again but it's filled with Deadpool/Emma action so hopefully that makes up for it. Also, I know some of you might be wondering why Deadpool/Wade is slightly out of character. Personally, I would think that most people would harbor a lot of anger after being used and injected without consent like he was, so that's why I've written him the way I have in this chapter. Hopefully, you all enjoy! _

**IMPORTANT NOTE: If you haven't noticed already, I added a little bit to the end of chapter six so you should go read that first if you haven't read it yet.**

* * *

His breath against her ear left goose bumps rising on her flesh and she was unable to hold back the gasp that escaped her lips. She wanted desperately to run or escape somehow, but there was only a sliver of space between her trembling body and Deadpool's massive form. He had her cornered against the wall. Escape would be impossible.

And as she stood there, wavering under his piercing gaze, Emma recalled a lesson she had once learned in high school biology. It was about a reflex every human and animal had called the "fight or flight" reflex. It reacted in situations that posed any form of dangerous or threat to the body. Depending on the amount of danger in the situation, a person's body would choose to fight and defend themselves, or take flight and remove themselves from the threat. Her body had chosen flight, but running away was no longer an option. The only alternative was to fight and defend herself.

She knew what she had to do.

Her heart pounding anxiously against her chest, she lifted a quivering hand to Deadpool's bare torso. As her fingers made contact with his skin, they turned to diamond and she pushed hard against his muscled abs using all of the strength she possessed. He flew backwards like an oversized ragdoll and crashed into the queen-sized bed, splitting the wooden base in half. She leapt forward stealthily and was crouched over him within seconds, pinning him down with her diamond arm.

Although his intimidating presence put more fear in her gut than she had ever felt before, her anger towards him was just as great. She found that it was much easier to fight him if she allowed her anger to rise over her girlish fear.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" she growled, constricting her firm grip on his ribs.

He smirked, his eyes full of sick amusement, and a sarcastic chuckle escaped his charred lips, "Barbie fights back. How cute, Emma. Really adorable, but-" he paused and his features hardened from amusement to ruthlessness as he threw her diamond arm away from him with ease and flipped her over so he was crouching over her dominantly, "I prefer to be the one making demands here."

Her blue eyes narrowed frostily and she spat in his face. "I don't take demands, Wade," she barked callously at him, "Not from you, not from anyone."

Her gutsy move hadn't deterred him; it had only angered him more. Wiping the spit from his eyes, tightening his grip exceedingly on her wrist, and releasing an enraged growl, he snarled in reply, "Well then you're gonna have to start learning, princess. I want some answers."

She huffed and looked away from him, clenching her first so violently that her nails dug into her palm, "Then why the hell-"

He grabbed her chin roughly before she could finish her question and yanked her face forward so her eyes were on his. "Goddamn it, look at me when you speak to me!"

The scared girl inside her shrunk away from his frightening tone, but her mutant endorphins kept her uncharacteristically brave. "Then why the hell are you here, Wade?" she continued, ignoring the fact that his hand was still painfully clenching her chin, "I don't have any answers! I'm just trying to live a normal life-"

His shrill, mocking laugh came so suddenly that she nearly jumped in surprise. "Normal?" he repeated disdainfully, "Did you really think you of all people could live a normal life, Emma? Wake up and SMELL THE FUCKING COFFEE! You will NEVER live a normal life, none of us will!"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she screeched in response, delivering angry blows to his rock hard chest.

Her strikes made no impact on him whatsoever. He merely grabbed her arms and pinned them down to the mattress. "You're going to listen to me," he snarled, "And you're going to listen good. You don't think I know that you don't have any answers? Just because I have a chip implanted in my fucking head does not mean I'm stupid. I need to find Stryker. He did this to me and make no mistake, he will regret it. But I need your help."

Emma snorted and narrowed her eyes at him, "You have a hell of a way of asking for someone's help, Wade. Attacking someone in their home isn't exactly the best way to go about asking for my help."

His hands tightened painfully around her wrists as he lowered himself over her so their skin was just barely touching. "I'm not asking for your help," he murmured, sneering down at her relentlessly, "I'm demanding it. You have no say in the matter, princess. You're helping me whether you want to or not."

With those words, her aggressive resolve crumbled as she felt her lips begin to quiver under his hard eyes, "Jesus Wade, what do you want from me?"

"I just told you," he responded irritably, rolling his eyes at her, "And don't go all bi-polar on me now. It's unattractive."

The courage she had only moments before was gone as the anger she felt towards him was dominated by her exceeding fear. He was clearly the same Wade she had once known, but the damage that had been done to him had changed him. Gone was his carefree attitude and positive outlook. They had been replaced by anger and hostility. His dark eyes had lost a touch of humanity. It was as if Deadpool and Wade had mixed together to form an alternate personality.

There was so much more she wanted to say to him but before she before she had the chance to even open her mouth, the front door of the apartment opened. "Emma!" Kayla's voice called, penetrating the silent room, "Come help me with groceries!"

A cold hand grasped Emma's throat and briefly cut the air supply off from her windpipes. "I'll be back for you soon. Be ready," were Deadpool's last words to her before the pressure was gone from her throat and the room was once again empty. It was as if the last fifteen minutes had never happened.

Emma barely had a chance to catch her breath before Kayla peaked into the room. "There you are! C'mon, I need your help with-" she paused, gasping as she saw Emma sitting breathless atop the broken mattress. "Oh my God! What happened in here?"

For a moment, Emma considered telling Kayla the truth but she realized that wouldn't be fair. Kayla had been through a lot and her health was still weak from the bullet wound, she didn't need any extra stress piled on top of everything else. "I-ugh-I went to lay down on the bed for a nap and it broke," she flashed Kayla her best impersonation of an embarrassed smile, "Definitely shook me up a little bit. I guess it wasn't as nice of a mattress set as we thought." She shrugged lightly, hoping Kayla wouldn't notice how her shoulders trembled.

Kayla's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "Right. Sure it wasn't anything else?" She stared pointedly at Emma's disgruntled appearance.

A true blush spread across Emma's cheeks at Kayla's implications and she quickly shook her head in dismissal, "NO, ew, definitely not. Just go start on the groceries and I'll be out to help you in a second, okay?"

"Whatever you say," Kayla said with smirk as she turned back down the hallway, "And you better hurry, I'm not supposed be lifting too much weight yet."

As the door shut behind her sister, Emma pulled her knees to her chest. She cradled her head in her hands and felt several deep sobs overtake her.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: First and foremost, I have to apologize to my faithful readers and reviewers for taking so long to post this chapter. I'm so so so so so so so sorry! I was just so busy with school and I couldn't find any inspiration to write more chapters. I guess that must've been writers block. Anyways, this last weeked I saw a preveiw for some movie coming out in August that has Ryan Reynolds in it. And, being completely honest, Ryan Reynold's gorgeous body is the only inspiration I need ;) So I guess next time I have a writers block, I'll just need to keep The Proposal, Buying the Cow, Just Friends, X-MEN ORIGINS, and any other movies with Ryan Reynolds in them handy. So, hopefully you guys enjoy this chapter enough to forgive me!**

* * *

Emma barely slept the next few nights. With Deadpool's threat of returning soon fresh in her mind, sleep was almost impossible. She spent hours lying awake in bed, warily watching the shadows and constantly checking the windows as well to make sure they were closed and locked. It didn't change a thing, she knew. If Deadpool wanted to get into the apartment, locked doors and windows wouldn't stop him. Keeping the apartment secure only helped Emma's peace mind. Even when she was able to catch a few hours of rest, nightmares of _him_ would dominate her sleep.

"Maybe you should get out of the house more," Kayla suggested one morning as she watched her sister prepare breakfast, "I could find you a job-"

"I go running every morning," Emma responded quickly as she set a plate of pancakes on the table, "Isn't that enough?"

"No, not really," Kayla mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing, "You've seemed really off lately. You look….unhealthy, you aren't getting enough rest. It's like you're stressed or scared-"

Emma slammed the syrup onto the table and shot Kayla an icy glare that lived up to her diamond exterior. "I am NOT scared," she protested bitterly.

"Calm down, Emma. I'm just worried about you," Kayla said softly, placing her hand gently on Emma's arm, "I just want you to tell me what's wrong so we can figure out how to fix it."

Emma jerked her arm away from Kayla's persuasive touch. "Don't even try that," she hissed. "I'm fine, okay? Just leave it alone."

Kayla rolled her eyes and stood from her chair, leaving her untouched plate of pancakes, "Whatever. I'm going to work, I can't deal with you right now when you're acting like a child."

"And I can't deal with you when you're acting like a parent," Emma grumbled under her breath as she heard the door slam behind her sister. She huffed a frustrated sigh and turned the flame off on the stove, dumping the contents of the pan into the trash. As she turned to clean the table, her body froze.

There, standing in the center of her kitchen, stood Deadpool.

If she wasn't so frightened, Emma would've laughed. His dark, hulking presence looked completely out of place in the brightly colored kitchen. Not to mention that his body mass alone took up a quarter of the kitchen space. He leaned casually against the wall, his scarred lips stretched into a cold smirk.

Though her body quivered under his penetrating gaze, Emma moved quickly to the opposite corner of the room. "Y-You c-can't just keep barging in here like that-"she sputtered in her own pathetic attempt to sound bold.

"Of course I can," He responded, his grin widening. A blade shot effortlessly from the skin of his knuckles and he examined it casually, "I like to think that I can do whatever the hell I please now a days. Such as crashing my ex-girlfriend's wedding-" He took a menacing step forward as he spoke.

"Don't come any closer," Emma snarled at him, though it compared to a kitten hissing at a lion.

"-or robbing banks-"

Emma desperately searched the room for a defense weapon as he took another step closer.

"-stealing panties, you know, all that good shit-"

Her eyes landed on a silver knife lying on the edge of the sink as he closed in on her.

"-Or breaking into a sweet diamond's apartment-"

In one quick movement, she reached out and grabbed the knife, holding it just ahead of her so the tip was pressed against the surface of his skin. "Don't," she hissed, keeping a firm grip on the knife despite her shaking hands.

Deadpool threw his head back and chuckled mirthfully, his eyebrows rising in amusement. "Emma, Emma, Emma," he tsked, waggling his finger back and forth at her like a parent would do to a naughty child, "Have you forgotten?" The knife sunk into his skin as he leaned in and placed both arms on either side of her head, mumbling in a boastful voice, "I'm in-de-struct-able, love."

She shuddered and turned her head away from him, unable to look into his dark eyes as he spoke.

"The way I see it, you have two options," he continued in a low voice, causing goosebumps to rise on her neck, "Either you come with me by your own free will….or you come with me by force. Your choice."

Her eyes narrowed on him once again and she pushed him away with replenished strength. "I won't come with you anywhere. Go to hell!" she spat, pulling the knife swiftly from his abdomen and attempting to jab it into his shoulder.

He caught her wrist in a crushing hold, causing the knife to fall from her hand. It clattered to the floor noisily as Deadpool stared her down with flaring nostrils. "Wrong choice," he growled, his grip on her miniscule wrist tightening, "I'm done playing this game of cat and mouse with you Emma! I tried to ask _fucking_ nicely but you just have to be so goddamn unreasonable-"

Emma grimaced as pain shot up her arm. She was sure her wrist would snap any moment under his tight hold. "You're hurting me!" she gasped, trying to hold back a sob pain.

"Poor little Emma," he mocked, though his grip still loosened. And once again, he was invading her personal space as his voice rasped in her ear. "We're doing things my way now." His arms wrapped around her waist in a firm grip and he carelessly tossed the struggling girl over his shoulder.

Emma refused to go easily. She thrashed wildly in his grasp, kicking at his chest and clawing at his skin with her nails. "LET ME GO! PUT ME DOWN GODDAMNIT! YOU'RE CRAZY!"

"Thanks for that lovely admission princess, but you're not exactly the first to tell me," her captor responded sarcastically, "Now it'd be great if you could SHUT THE FUCK UP for a few minutes so we don't draw any unwanted attention from the neighbors-"

"Why would I wanna do that?" Emma gasped, breathless from screaming, "If they hear me, they can call the cops-"

Deadpool gleamed at her over his shoulder. "And then I'll have to kill them, which doesn't really upset me all that much-" in fact, he looked sickly satisfied at the idea-"but I'm sure you wouldn't want all that blood on your clean, innocent hands."

Emma didn't respond.

As soon as they were outside of the apartment, Deadpool pulled his hood up over his head to hide his marred face and set Emma down beside him. He instantly laced his fingers with hers, hissing to her under his breath, "Smile and look happy. If I hear so much as a word, the swords are coming out and people will be dead."

Emma didn't give any indication that she had heard him, but she remained silent on their walk to the parking lot. He led her to a silver sports vehicle and roughly shoved her into the passenger seat, making sure to lock the door as soon as it was closed.

She closed her eyes forlornly as the car engine rumbled to a start and pulled away from her apartment, leaving behind the only freedom she had left after her stay at Three Mile Island. "Why are you doing this?"

He merely flashed her an unnerving grin and placed a pair of sunglasses over his eyes to hide the scar tissue that remained from the surgeries, "Because I need your help."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Okay, you guys must hate me by now. I'm sorry for having the worst writer's block of my life! Even after months of not writing, I still struggled with forming this chapter. Hopefully, it doesn't disappoint too much.**

**PLEASE READ: **

_ITALICS-Happened when Wade/Deadpool first awoke on Three Mile Island._

* * *

_The world was dark and disjointed when he first awoke. He was swimming in a sea of black, unable to think, hear, or speak. He felt one emotion. Terror. More terror than he had ever felt before in his life, which was saying a lot because Wade Wilson had experienced things that would make even the darkest demons' skin crawl._

_Then, an inkling of an urge._

_**Move**, a whisper came from deep within the confines of the darkness. He felt his limbs twitch forward at the command, digging, clawing, struggling out from underneath the rubble that incased him. He pierced the surface and felt the caress of the cold win against his skin…But something was still wrong. The darkness still encased him._

_His hands grappled through the dirt of their own accord, searching for something he was still unsure of. Like a magnetic force, the object pulled him in. His fingers grazed over the soft, bloody tissue of his severed head and finally, he realized what he had to do. Gently lifting the sensitive skull from the ground, he placed it atop the lower half of his neck, ignoring the agonizing pain that shot through his spine when the skin connected. The tissues molded into one another like clay and slowly, he began to regain his senses. With them came the blinding sunlight._

_He groaned as the sun pierced his sensitive irises, inciting a painful thud his temples. It wasn't the first time he had experience this, he recalled. Not the whole decapitation thing, the sunlight induced headache. No memory accompanied this realization. He simply knew._

_As his pupils adjusted to the brightness, he took in his surroundings. Dirt, rubble, dirt, more rubble. Something destructive had happened here, the same something that had left in his incapacitated state. A feeling of content built up inside of him. He loved destruction._

* * *

"You can't just go kidnapping people from their homes like that," Emma huffed as she crouched into the corner of the passenger seat. She wanted to leave as much space as possible between herself and her captor.

Deadpool smirked, a cruelly amused smirk that caused chills to travel up her spine, "Really, princess? Because I believe I just did."

Emma scowled at him. "You won't get away with it. Someone will come looking for me-"

"Who? Big sis?" He fired back sarcastically, "She's in no state to chase after precious, little Emma. Especially after taking that bullet to the chest. Heard it really shot her down." He chuckled at his own pun, ignoring a spiteful glare from his blonde passenger.

Unable to stand the sight him, Emma reverted her eyes to the dashboard. "You're sick," she spat under her breath.

Deadpool's eyes darkened and his hand shot out, grasping her chin forcefully between his fingers. "Don't make me mad. You won't like me when I'm mad."

Emma stared into his rage-filled eyes, ignoring the pain his crushing grip was inflicting on her chin. Was he still there? Was any part of Wade locked away in side this monster? Yes, she concluded, she could see it, feel it even in his touch. But he was a changed man. A crossbreed of the Wade she had once known and the monster Stryker had created.

She lifted her hand to the pale flesh of his cheek and gently ran her fingers over the stubble that was starting to grow there. His eyes softened and his grip on her chin loosened. Her touch affected him more than she knew, more than even he knew. The electricity between them had not been shattered by his transformation. It cultivated between them, stronger than it had ever been before.

He jerked away from her burning touch and set his eyes back on the road. She stared at him for a moment longer, melancholy and tenderness filling her blue eyes as she took in the broken man before her. After a few silence filled minutes, she rested her head against the cool glass window and fell into a peaceful sleep. The moment her eyes closed, Deadpool's wishful gaze fell over the sleeping beauty like a comforting sheet.

* * *

_Agonized screams tore from his body as visions wracked his brain. Memories permeated through his head, lacking coherency and order. Their weight pushed him to his knees on the floor of the desolate island as his body seizured uncontrollably._

**_"If you didn't have that mouth on you Wade, you'd be the perfect soldier."_**

_A man, middle aged and pudgy to some extent, walked down an aisle in some type of business room. His smirk was filled with satisfaction and a sight twinge of annoyance. Behind him stood five heavily armed men in identical vests. Their eyes were on him as the leader of the group spoke._

**_"Just a bit longer, Wade. Hold on for just a little bit longer."_**

_The memory was accompanied with darkness, the same Wade had just awoken from._

**_"Wade, you don't have to do this!"_**

_He was charging towards one of the men from his previous memory, katana blades extending from his knuckles as he hurtled forward._

_His final memory was soundless, just a face without a voice to place it to. He had been standing from a high place, looking down over the island at the object of the memory. Golden blonde hair, flawlessly pale skin, sparkling blue eyes; her image was unforgettable, infinitely impressed on his subconscious._

_As he finally came to, he uttered one name silently to the stale air hovering around him, "Emma Frost."_

* * *

Other memories had come eventually, giving him the information he needed to pursue his revenge. Colonel William Stryker had molded him into a soulless weapon, whose only purpose was to kill and destroy. His free will had been torn away, only to be returned to him when he awoke that day on the island. The terror that had accompanied his awakening had been more severe than any he had felt in his life time. For that, Stryker would pay.

There were only two others presented in his memories that could give him the assistance he needed. One was dead, and the other was Emma Frost.

His eyes once again traveled to the girl sleeping in the passenger seat of the car. For the past month, he thought the only thing he could feel was rage. He was wrong. Her very presence provoked more emotions inside him than he ever thought possible. With a sigh, he reached over and gently brushed her hair back from her face with his scarred hands. The slightest touch caused a euphoric sensation to jolt through his body. This girl was the key to finding Stryker, but she was also the key to his salvation.


End file.
